


An Unconventional (Kinky) Love Story

by remarkable1



Category: Crimson Peak (2015)
Genre: Actor Tom Hiddleston, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Angst with a Happy Ending, Breast Milk Fantasy Kink, Coming of Age, Consensual Sex, Creepy, Creepy Fluff, F/M, Falling In Love, Getting to Know Each Other, Graphic Description, Inspired by Crimson Peak (2015), Mention of major character death, Non-Consensual Voyeurism, Porn with Feelings, Pregnancy Kink, Quarantine, Regret, Remorse, Sex, Smut, Teacher-Student Relationship, Thomas Sharpe deserves to be happy, Thomas is 18, early 1900's, leaving the past behind, mention of murder, mention of sibling incest, seriously
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-02
Updated: 2020-09-02
Packaged: 2021-03-06 19:00:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,440
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26243797
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/remarkable1/pseuds/remarkable1
Summary: Thomas Sharpe is an 18-year-old student at an all-boys college when the flu pandemic of 1918 hits, closing down and quarantine everyone. Stuck with the female tutor assigned to his building, they come together and find more in one another than either ever bargained for... and eventually... a happy ever after.
Relationships: Thomas Sharpe/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 1
Kudos: 22





	An Unconventional (Kinky) Love Story

*Why is she posting this when she has other stories to update!?* you may ask? Because Thor hopped fandoms and talked to Thomas, and they agreed Thomas needed to get laid. So here you go.

He’d just received the news. His darling sister had passed away in her sleep. Not having seen her in years, it grieved his heart as if she were still making promises to his twelve-year-old self that they would always be together. It was what had bonded them permanently after she’d killed their mother, and their father had mysteriously passed a short time later. He didn’t want to believe she had a hand in that but knew it was probably right. Now, he’d never know the truth of the matter.

Or what it would be like to feel his cock between her thighs as a real man instead of a boy, as she’d also promised.

Allerdale Hall no longer held the appeal to him as it had in his younger years. The design for a mining machine itched to make itself known on paper, yet he dared not sketch it out for fear the idea would be stolen.

Many of his professors at the all-boys school he’d been sent to often took credit for their pupils' discoveries. They took other liberties as well. Being a bright boy, Thomas hadn’t needed to avail himself of their _‘private’_ tutoring services.

It was just as well that the one time he dreaded having to meet with a tutor when a particularly stubborn professor disagreed with a theory Thomas knew to be correct, that it turned out to be a woman.

Almost unheard of, he was told it was necessary given the sudden spate of illness that had befallen the school's tutors. All would be quarantined. As a visiting teacher to a nearby all-ladies school, she was already exposed to the same building his classes were held in.

While he moved into his temporary quarters, unpacking his decontaminated clothing and belongings (set out in the sun for a few days to air out), he saw her down the hall.

 _'Scandalous,'_ went the whispers. Well, they would have been so, if other ladies had been about. As it was, there was only he and three other lads, also tutored by the very same. For an undetermined amount of time, until the quarantine was lifted, they were there to work, live and study together, forbidden from spending time with the Miss unless accompanied by the others, as it was unseemly.

The back of her head caused him to startle and drop a bag, some implements clattering to the floor. She spun on a heel, a graceful smile granting him an audience as she glided towards him.

It was – it was – no! But it couldn’t be! Lucille was dead, wasn’t she?

“Hello! You must be one of the boys I’m to tutor. I’m Anna Worthington. You are?”

“Lu- Lucille?” he gasped out stupidly, hand trembling as it reached for her face. She was almost the spitting image of a cross between Lucille and their father. If not for a few rounded lines and different colored eyes and shade of hair, she could have been his lost heart.

Confused, eyes fluttering, she stepped back from his reach, bringing him back to reality. He snatched back his hand and bowed his head. “I’m so sorry, Miss. You just - remind me of someone very dear to me that has recently passed. Thomas. Sharpe. At your service, Miss.”

“It’s quite alright. I’ve been mistaken for other ladies from time to time. I must have a common face,” she self-deprecated with a light laugh, not at all a little girl’s laughter. Not like Lucille’s.

Feeling a little calmer now, he shook himself mentally and took her proffered hand, bowing and pressing his forehead to her fingers' tips like a gentleman.

“I must thank you for taking on the likes of my schoolmates. They can be a rowdy lot.”

“And you are not?”

“Not at all. I conduct myself with the utmost decorum at all times,” he answered smoothly, flirting with her before he realized how inappropriate it was.

Yet she seemed flattered and took him at face value, for his relief. “Then I shall hold you to that, Mr. Sharpe. I must return to my quarters. I’ll see you tomorrow morning at eight on the dot.”

With a small curtsey and another heart-melting smile, she turned and glided back to her door, flicking him an undefinable glance that took in the full measure of him, another knowing, more inappropriate smile that had him gasping. She was gone inside, and the door closed behind her.

What in the world had that all been about? Surely she hadn’t? No. It must have been a trick of the imagination. 

Thomas had been edgy for weeks since he’d received news of his sister’s passing. All of his post-school plans were uprooted. He no longer had her to care for and was not sure he wished to stay on at the ruin of his family’s ancestral home.

That, and his hormones decided to rage mightily. Night after night, he took himself in hand, professing undying love and devotion to Lucille under his breath as he spent himself in his hand over and over until he passed out from sheer exhaustion. Why his growth spurt had decided to creep up on him now was beyond comprehension. 

Already his trousers were two inches too short, and he had more growing to do. Thankfully, another lad was going through a late-blooming period, as well, and was passing his things along to Thomas, as he was taller by a full measure.

Brushing off his latest fantastical musings and chastising his wild imagination, Thomas let himself into his own rooms and set to work tidying them, preparing for night and the next morning’s introductions.

\--

It was as he’d imagined it would be, much to his relief and disappointment. It annoyed him to be so distracted. 

Usually, nothing could pull him from concentrating on his lessons, a healthy habit he’d forced upon himself so as not to fall to the wiles of the dirty old men that lusted after the boys under their charge. Disgusting. The lot of them. Enough of the boys partook of one another among those their own age, but that was different, mostly consensual. Thomas turned them all down. He was saving himself for… well, no longer.

He'd only lain with Lucille the once before they’d been separated. Well, she had placed herself over his young body, taking him to a place he’d never dreamed existed. All of his fantasies stemmed from that singular experience. No matter how many pretty ladies paraded through the grounds on tours with their brothers, sons, or cousins, tittering behind fans, all paled in comparison to his Lucille.

No pedestal was higher than the one he’d placed her upon. Obsessively he read her letters over and over until they were worn and barely held together.

Slowly, as the weeks went by, he finally put them away and buried them in the back of his mind, along with his love for her. He always would love her, but it was time to move on. In a sense, he felt free. He felt guilty. He felt remorseful. Most of all, he felt relieved.

Relieved to live his own life and be his own person.

“Forgive me, Lucille,” he breathed, already his attentions smitten with the new tutor. Each time she bent over, asked a question, needed assistance, he was there as an eager puppy to assist.

His school mates teased him relentlessly, but he didn’t care. No one held a candle to the new breath of fresh air that had breezed into his life.

From time to time, a stern schoolmaster would inspect the building with a mask in place. It was the flu, they were told. It was ravaging the countryside, country to country, county by county, town by town, and they were to keep to their quarters and study in private.

Then, they learned the schoolmaster had taken ill and died a short while later.

Thomas’s three schoolmates came down with the sickness and were moved to a quarantine hospital.

It was just him and Anna in the building. No one else remained to do the maintenance for the grounds or cooking or cleaning, so she took it upon herself to keep up the building's inside and he the grounds.

It was inevitable they saw each other from time to time, exchanging greetings. One night, a knock sounded upon his door.

“Miss- Miss – I – you shouldn’t be –”

“Really, let’s just stop with this nonsense, Thomas,” she demanded, and he was wordless as she swept past him, physically brushing his front with her skirts as she held a tray aloft and seated herself at his small table.

Looking up at him expectantly, she gestured to the other seat. “Well, aren’t you going to eat? It’s ridiculous to stay apart any longer. We’ve only the other for company, and I’m going mad on my own, aren’t you?”

“Yes, I suppose so,” he answered carefully, unnecessarily looking out of the door as if someone else would creep up on and discover them together.

He tentatively took his seat and raised his cutlery. The dinner she served was simple but delicious, and he thanked her politely, doing his best not to react or say too much. She happily did all of the talking, and he found out more about her that evening than he had during their entire acquaintance as of late.

Then, she said something that raised his curiosity.

“What is it, Thomas? Do speak up. I don’t bite.”

He raised his head sharply at that comment. It was the first she’d made that bordered on inappropriate. This time, he wasn’t imagining her shark-like grin.

“Oh, come now. I’m only teasing. You are much too repressed.”

“Am I now?” he murmured, beginning to wonder what her real intent was. To be honest, he was growing tired of isolation, as well. Nothing broke the monotony, studies had ceased altogether, and his days were idled away sketching new inventions, re-reading old books, daydreaming, working the grounds, and to his secret shame, spying on Anna, hand on his cock as he stroked himself to completion as she bathed each night. Ashamed. Horribly so. He was not sorry for it one whit if she was coming on to him like this. Her pupil. Scandalous. Deliciously so, he decided. Who was there to stop them? No one.

Making up his mind, he placed his dinnerware down with a small snick of finality and rose, stalking ‘round the little table until he was looking down at her upturned face. She still had that same teasing grin there, as if daring him to do something. Instead, he held out his hand to her, pulling her to her feet.

Much too close, they stood, breath coming a little harder and faster, breathing in one another’s exhaled air.

Thomas’s pulse sped up, and his cock strained against his undershorts uncomfortably. If she looked down, she would know. She did. He held his breath.

Her gaze raked up over him like he was a steak dinner, all pretense gone from her once-schooled face. Bringing up her fingers, she walked them from the middle of his chest up to his chin and touched his nose, before sliding them down his torso and cupping his tight bulge.

Thomas closed his eyes and blew out a breath.

“It’s like that, is it?” she asked him lowly, holding still as if he were a deer that would spook.

He very nearly did, then scolded himself. A brilliant, beautiful young woman that looked very much like his sister held his clothed organ in her hand, and he was going to turn her down? He was mad. Absolutely, positively insane for considering it. Thomas threw caution to the wind.

“Yes. It is, and it has been. This is what you do to me, Anna,” he boldly stated, using her first name purposefully to put them on even footing. He was taller than her now by a head and a half, fully grown into his frame, body filling out and losing his boyish edges, muscles defining from the hours of ground maintenance he’d been performing. He felt strong. Strong and virile and lusty. He had to have her.

“What do you propose we do about this?” she asked him incomprehensibly.

Any number of inappropriate answers rushed through his mouth, none of them coming out. He thrust a little into her hand. “Anything you like.”

“Hm. You’ll have to do better than that.” She took her hand away, and he sighed minutely.

“Thomas, you do not have to answer this, but have you ever lain with a woman?”

He hesitated, figuring it could do no harm. “Yes. Once.”

“Only once?”

“Yes. And you, Miss?”

Oh, God! Mortified, the blush rose and stained his cheeks and neck, and he turned from her. “I am so, so very sorry. That was highly inappropriate of me,” he stuttered out, only to be shocked when she embraced him from behind and now grabbed boldly not only his cock but his bollocks as well, a handful in each grasp, breasts tight against his back.

“I think we’ve already crossed that line, don’t you?”

“Y-yes,” he said, trying to calm his racing heart. Was this really happening?

“To answer you, yes, I have been with a man. Many times. He was my betrothed, but he died. He taught me everything. Absolutely everything there is to know between a man and a woman. About pleasure. About deviancy.  
About so much more. Would you like me to … tutor you? Thomas?”

Oh GOD, did he ever! Yet he still hesitated, the memory of his promise to his sister staying his actions.

“What is it that holds you back?” she asked, letting go of him and rounding, cupping his chin.

His sad eyes greeted her with a wry smile and crinkled at the edges.

“A promise.”

Her face fell, and he felt terrible all over again. “Is she waiting for you somewhere?”

Now it was his turn to turn away. “Only in heaven.”

“Then … you do not dishonor your promise in laying with another?”

“It’s not that simple,” he rasped, the emotion overcoming him as his organ deflated.

“Yes, it is. I am a woman, and you are a man.”

“I am a student!” he insisted, slapping himself mentally but digging in his heels.

“Yes. You are also eighteen-years-old. Well old enough to be on your own and make decisions for yourself. I was thrown into this position not through some man’s heart's goodwill, but for lack of other options. I’m not even being paid to be here.”

That shocked him. Frankly, they did not value her enough; she was forced to teach?

“How can that be true?” he objected, walking away yet and staring out the window without really seeing.

“It’s quite simple. When you refuse to lay with the man your father set you up with, some things become much more difficult to attain when you turn him down.”

“Was he really that terrible?” Thomas asked, not really caring.

“Yes. Yes, he was a monster.”

“Then you are a victim, and you seek only to be free.”

“I’ll never be free,” she admitted. “As a woman in today’s society, none of us ever will be. One day, perhaps.”

She sounded like one of the radical progressives. He secretly admired their fiery gumption, but would never admit so. Her honest declaration stirred his loins once more, to his great consternation.

“Am I so terrible?” she asked, now her voice a whisper right behind him, yet she refrained from touching him this time, and he found he yearned for the contact.

“No. You are quite lovely, Dearest. It is – my own mind I am trapped within. I do not wish to sully your name.”

“Now, you are making excuses. No one would know.”

“ _I_ would know,” he emphasized uselessly. Why was he doing this to himself? A beautiful, unattached woman was offering herself to him on a silver platter, and he was turning her down in too many words. What was his problem?

The specter of Lucille flitted through is mind. “You will always be mine, Thomas, you promised. Always.”

 _’Go away!’_ he thought angrily. Then he realized the prison he’d allowed himself to be trapped within. The cage always open, but afraid of the sunlight, so long had he stayed inside its safe confines, never one to take risks, still hunching in the corner. A coward, he was. It was time for it to stop.

A sudden resolve overtook him, and he turned rapidly, a little alarmed to find Miss Anna was already at his door, hand on the knob.

“I shall trouble you no more,” she told him, frosty and polite once more. “My deepest apologies for … my inappropriate advances. I know you hold no more respect for me if you’ve ever done, but I request you not speak of this to anyone else.”

He was behind her in an instant. “I will not. And you are right; I was making excuses. I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry. It’s not you, it’s me.”

He winced at the banality of that statement but carried on.

“I wish to – wish to -”

She whirled around, once again very close to his chest, eyes brightening with hope, bosom heaving slightly as her bust pressed against his sternum.

Damn him! Why couldn’t he just say it!?

She elected to help him, gripping the front of his shirt in her petite hand and pulling mightily, forcing him to bend at the waist lest he choke at the collar on his high-buttoned shirt.

Her lips met his in a mad, fiery rush, and he was overtaken with the heady aroma of _woman_ that rose from her. How had he not smelled this intoxicating scent from her before?

For long moments they kissed until his brain started working, and he slammed shut the door she’d opened a few inches, locking it just in case, then scooped her up from her behind, causing her to squeal as he cupped her bottom and nipped at her neck.

Wrapping her legs around him, the best her skirts would allow, she _moaned_ into his ear, “Take me to bed, Thomas.”

“You will…. assist me?” he asked, the last of his insecurity shining through.

She did not fault him for it. “Of course. Anything for you, my Thomas.”

The words echoed in his ears and went straight to his balls.

Following instinct and the stories of his schoolmates along with the lead of this enchanting creature, he did precisely that. It wasn’t difficult to figure out what she wanted, as Anna took charge in almost every action they partook in.

It made it easy for him to follow through, going where she indicated, doing what she directly asked. Never could he have requested or received a more thorough teacher in the art of lovemaking. The things she did to his body were pure sin. He was sure she was ruining him for all other women.

Insisting on complete nudity, he was still flustered when she knelt before him, confused as to what she could possibly be doing down there and him up above her. He began to kneel, but she indicated him to stay. His erection seemed like a comical thing, bobbing in her face, gigantic and unruly against his slender, toned waist. He was afraid she’d find him lacking and laugh at him.

She praised him, instead. With her mouth.

Thomas thought his head would explode the moment she realized what she was doing. It was considered filthy and unladylike. No gentleman allowed it. Obviously, he concluded in a daze later, he was no gentleman. At least not with her.

It felt too damn good to turn her down. He’d genuinely be mad to have done so.

With a sure grip, she wrapped her lovely hand around his cock and pulled, twisting on the upstroke just as he preferred, getting a shocked gasp from his lips, hands fluttering around her head.

“You may,” she told him, and he had no idea what she was talking about.

“What? What?”

“Grab my hair,” she commanded in a snotty tone, and he obeyed, tugging on her curls she’d let down.

 _‘Oh, LUCILLE,’_ his mind stuttered, and he angrily pushed it away with, _‘ANNA MY ANNA.’_ He felt the screaming, angry, petulant memory of his ghostly sister fade with his past into the pleasure this woman’s mouth had on him right now, right here, in the land of the living.

“Anna! Anna! OH, my darling, Anna! What are you – what is that – OH fuck!” he cursed, uncaring at his uncouth exuberance.

Her mouth descended all of the way over his substantial length and girth. He felt her _swallow_ around the tip, sending his balls pulsing like mad into her hot, tight throat, almost, but not quite, horrified to find himself fisting her hair and _pushing_ his groin into her face, _fucking_ her face like he _owned_ her.

And she _loved_ it, he noticed vaguely, her hand busy between her legs and realized she was masturbating, getting off to his pleasure, a freshet of a second wave of come bursting from his loins in response.

It was filthy. It was dirty. Only degenerates and lowlifes took such pleasure in unholy deeds. He loved all of it. What more could she teach him? He was already addicted to this – suckling of his organ. He planned to feed her his seed as often as she would allow.

She moaned around him as her own body convulsed, and he knew she was climaxing on her fingers.

Too tired to continue, he pushed her forehead gently until she let his organ fall from her mouth. Then, then… she opened it and looked up at him. He disbelievingly viewed her showing him his issue with wide eyes, sat in a messy pool upon her tongue, spilling from her lips. Then. _Then,_ she closed her mouth and _swallowed the entire lot_ down her throat, moaning, other fingers still busy on her woman’s pleasure center.

“Oh, Anna, dear girl, come to your Thomas,” he coaxed and she sprang into his arms.

When she tried to kiss him, he turned away, still a bit stuffy, slightly disgusted she wanted his tongue with his seed still on her own.

“Thomas! You will kiss me right this instant!” she commanded.

Like a puppet on a string, he obeyed, and _loved_ it, the musky aftertaste of himself was so, so – forbidden.

A lightbulb flashed in his own mind, and he fell to his knees, pushing her up against the wall.

She started to complain and then realized what he intended to do. _‘What a good boy!’_ she sighed inwardly, not even having had to show him what to do. She did need to give him a few pointers, but the lad was a natural.

Her back against the wall, he hooked one of her legs over a shoulder, spread her cunt lips wide, and dove in like a master swimmer out for gold.

She’d definitely ruined him. The last vestiges of decency abandoned his skull as he nipped, sucked, nosed, and tongued at her flower, tapping at her clitoris each time she shrieked. She was so fucking _wet,_ and he wanted more. He couldn’t get enough.

In no time at all, it seemed like she was climaxing against his mouth. He felt an inner sense of male satisfaction at having pleasured her so quickly. If her grip on his hair was any indication, he was doing quite well for his first time.

“Thomas!” she screamed, riding his face. He could barely breathe but did not care. If he died between her legs, he’d die no more honorable a death.

A burst of liquid hit him between the eyes, and he instinctively wrapped his lips around the source, drinking down the squirt of come she gushed into his mouth, her voice hoarse by the time she came down from her high, legs trembling.

Falling into a heap, he lifted her carefully from the bare floor and lay her on his narrow bed.

They lay side by side for some time, staring into one another’s eyes, no words but worlds of understanding exchanged between them. Something significant shifted. Thomas did not care if he was a fool. His heart was falling in love with this woman. How could he not? She – she was magnificent. How could he let go of someone who made him feel the way she had, and he’d not yet been inside her?

After a time, they slept, and in the early hours, uncomfortable now, he rose, quietly padding about and forming a small nest of blankets and bulky coats on the floor. She awoke and watched him, then moved when he beckoned to her.

She lay on her back, and he knelt between her legs, the understanding of what was about to transpire foremost in each of their minds. No regrets. No turning back.

“Thomas,” she breathed out. “I need you inside of me.”

Thomas held the edge of his cock and hissed. “If you keep that up, I will spend before I’m even within you, dearest,” he managed.

She allowed him respite and then slowly, so very slowly, he eased into her hot cunt.

It took every ounce of willpower _not_ to come inside of her on the first thrust. He held himself there, struggling, finally thinking of the dour old headmaster until his lust receded enough for him to rein in his premature urge to ejaculate.

Steeling himself, he began to move, grateful for her patience. He nearly lost it again when she grabbed both of his buttocks, raised her legs, and _pulled_ on his arse, pressing him so deeply into her he was lost.

Before long, Thomas was pounding into her, the hot, wet slap of their bodies disgustingly erotic. Her juices were wetting his loins, and he loved it, wanted, needed more of it. More of her. In every way.

He wanted her for his own. For his wife.

In a brief moment of fantasy, his mind turned to an image of her round with his child. He practically saw stars, his balls drawing up as he felt himself starting to come and poured on the power, slapping at her cunt hard and angling his public bone over her clit so it caught there over and over, sending her screaming and tightening around his organ, melting and pulsing and milking him until he shot ropes of heavy come into her cunt, feeding her every drop and keeping it there, staying inside of her, laying heavily on top of her, filled wickedly with the new desire to breed and impregnate her. GOD, she was ravishing. He _would_ have her. He would.

\--

It didn’t take long for Thomas to get her pregnant. She didn’t even try to prevent it. Thomas tried to balk when she came to him during her bleeding time. Still, she was having none of it and pinned him down, sat on his dick, and rode him until he spent himself thrice in her waiting channel, no longer caring, as long as he could keep spending his issue against her womb every night, and every morning, and every afternoon for the rest of his life.

He found her crying on the steps one day, a letter in hand. Deliveries were only made at night to keep cross infection from contaminating those that were well. The contact they’d had with the outside world consisted of sparse correspondence, papers, well wishes, checks on their health.

It was an order for her to return to the women’s college. The quarantine was lifted, and her services were no longer needed. For her service, she was being paid a stipend for duty under peril and for keeping one of their most promising, bright students from the plague-like flu that had ravaged Great Britain.

“Dearest. Dearest. Please, tell your Thomas. What ails you?”

She threw herself into his arms. “I’ve been recalled. I fear I shall never see you again. You’ve years yet until your Doctorate. I am indebted to the college… I – I –”

“Sh. Hush now. Don’t cry, Darling. I – I was waiting to ask you this, but I think now is the time. If you accept, it will take care of many pesky formalities.”

She drew back, dabbing at her eyes with an already-soaked handkerchief. “Thomas?” she questioned.

He took the handkerchief from her and laid it aside. Pulling something from a pocket, he presented her with a gorgeous ruby ring. It was huge. She stared as if it wasn’t real. “Thomas? What is this?”

Holding both her hands, he dipped his head to re-capture her gaze. “Don’t you see? I’m asking you to marry me, dearest Anna. Will you be my wife? Please say yes! Then we can always be together—just the two of us. I will start my own practice. I’ve been offered to take over an apprenticeship with a master that wishes to retire. His own apprentice and the backup have died from flu complications. He is desperate to pass it on. I can hardly pass up the opportunity.”

“What of your estate? Of your schooling?”

“I will go to night school. By day I will learn the ways of the practice and study in the evenings. Then I shall make my way to bed and show you every way in which I love you, should you accept my proposal.”

He held his breath, delighted when she threw herself at him again and shouted, “Yes, Thomas, oh yes! I will be your wife! Yes, yes, yes!”

Never a happier man was there in all of Great Britain. Or so Thomas felt.

In the next instant, her face fell, and she looked nervous.

“Dearest? Have you something to tell me?”

“I – I’m afraid you will – you’ll change your mind when I – tell you the news,” she whispered.

As soon as his hand subconsciously went to her abdomen, he knew. He just _knew._

“Anna, are you telling me what I think you are?”

New tears flooded her face as she begged him, grabbing his forearms, his shocked expression mistaken for disgust or rejection.

“I’m sorry! I thought – I was sure that – I’m so sorry! I can’t, I won’t be rid of this child! It’s a part of you and me, and if it’s all I have left to remember you by, so be it!”

Quickly, he pulled the distraught woman to his breast and held her there.

“No. NO, dearest Anna. NO NO NO don’t you EVER dare or think for one moment, I do not want our child, our _baby_ that we’ve created together. I’d hoped, I’d prayed, foolishly, perhaps, that you'd fall with child. I’m delighted. Overjoyed, really,” he dropped to a chuckle in her hair, and she pulled back once more, feeling foolish.

“Really?” she asked sheepishly, sniffing and wiping her nose on her dirty kerchief. He offered her a clean one, and she hiccoughed, smiling as he slid the ring on her finger.

“You will be my wife. Soon. As soon as I can find someone to marry us. I’ll sell Allerdale Hall. Even for pennies on the dollar, it will leave us with a small fortune for the land’s worth alone, and the scraps when they tear down the mansion. I’ve already released the servants from duty and had my belongings and keepsakes sent to storage in London.”

“You’ve – you’ve had this planned, haven't you?” she asked in wonder, just now realizing who had been in charge all along.

He gave her a deliciously naughty smirk. “Oh, my Dearest, you have no idea. If you are amenable, I will keep you pregnant and filled with children, let them suckle from your breast. Then I will take my turn and partake of that life-giving nectar, and fuck your swollen breasts until you can bear it no longer. You are mine, Anna Worthington. You are mine, and I am yours. Your husband. Thomas Sharpe.”

“I do like the sound of that,” she admitted almost shyly. “Mrs. Anna Sharpe. Mr. and Mrs. Thomas Sharpe.”

“Perfect,” he growled. Then, “Let’s celebrate.”

It was an unconventional beginning, but one that led to decades of children, happiness, prosperity, and outstanding sex in a time and age where many struggled. The Sharpe’s led successful, full, happy lives, and wanted for nothing more, ever again.


End file.
